The terrace spun.
Or maybe it was me.
The world had sound again, but it came muffled, as if I were underwater — voices fading in and out, the crackle of the damaged ward lines dimming to a low electric groan. My legs buckled.
"Arin!"
Lira's voice — sharp, panicked.
"Hold him—!"
Seris — angry because she was scared.
My knees hit stone.
The shock from the entity's voice still rippled through my skull like aftershocks of thunder. The name it spoke — my name — kept reverberating in my ribs, in my palms, in the very mark on my skin.
My hands trembled uncontrollably.
Black spots crept in from the edges of my vision.
"Arin, look at me," Lira whispered, kneeling in front of me so quickly she barely felt the scrape of stone. Her hands framed my face, palms cold from magic but gentle. "Stay with me. Don't drift."
Seris slid behind me, catching my shoulders before I slumped forward. Her arms wrapped around my torso, strong despite the wound at her side.
She pressed her cheek against the back of my head.
"Breathe, center. In — and out."
I tried.
Failed.
My chest seized.
The bond surged.
Three heartbeats slammed together in an unsteady rhythm.
Lira's eyes glistened. "Arin, please—"
"It—knew me…" I rasped. "I don't—remember it, but— it— remembered me."
Seris's grip tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of my collar.
"Don't. Don't let it in your head. Keep looking at us."
"I'm trying—" My voice cracked.
The terrace tilted.
My stomach lurched.
My pulse hammered out of sync with the bond. Magic flared along my arms — not dangerous, but wild, uncontrolled — flickering like the first sparks of a storm.
Lira gasped as she felt it. "His resonance is destabilizing—!"
Seris pressed her forehead to my back. "Then stabilize it! Lira, talk to him— keep him anchored."
"I'm trying," Lira whispered, breathing fast, voice wavering but steady enough to reach me. "Arin. Arin, listen. You're here. With us. You're safe."
Safe.
The word didn't feel real.
The entity's voice still echoed behind my ribs.
"Arin Vale…"
"…incomplete…"
"…missing piece…"
"…I remember you…"
My breathing hitched.
Lira leaned closer until her forehead touched mine. The contact sent a soft pulse through the bond — warm, calming, deliberate.
"I'm here," she murmured. "Look at me. Arin— look at me."
I forced my eyes open.
Her face blurred — then sharpened.
Her lashes were wet. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips pressed tight with fear she was trying so hard not to let slip through the cracks.
Seris's arms tightened around me, her voice low in my ear. "You don't get to faint on us today. Not after that thing said your name."
"I'm—sorry," I whispered, the words barely sound.
"Don't you dare apologize," Seris growled softly. "Not to us."
The world dimmed again.
Not violently.
Not suddenly.
Just… drained.
Like light slipping through a cracked lantern.
Halin's steps approached. "Move him to the infirmary. Now."
But Seris didn't wait for wardens.
She lifted me halfway herself, despite the pain at her side.
Lira took the other arm, looping it over her shoulder, her hands trembling but determined.
I had no strength left to object.
No strength left to stand on my own.
They half-dragged, half-supported me through the courtyard, past students who stared with wide eyes, past wardens barking commands, past the trembling lattice lights.
As we moved, the bond fluttered — flickering like a candle exposed to wind.
Lira felt it.
Seris felt it.
Both of them tightened their hold.
"Don't fade," Lira whispered.
"Don't even think about fading," Seris hissed.
I tried to answer.
Tried to tell them I wasn't leaving. Not by choice.
But the moment Seris pushed open the infirmary doors, the last of my strength cracked.
My consciousness slipped.
My vision went black around the edges.
And the last thing I felt before I fully collapsed—
Was both their hands closing around mine.
Holding.
Anchoring.
Refusing to let go.
When I woke, it was dim.
Not dark.
Not bright.
Soft, fire-lantern dim — the kind healers used to stop headaches from shattering your skull.
My head throbbed.
My limbs felt heavy.
My mark still pulsed faintly under my collarbone.
But I wasn't alone.
I realized two things at once:
1. Someone was holding my hand.
2. Someone was asleep on my arm.
I looked left.
Lira was slumped in a chair beside my bed, head resting on the mattress edge, her fingers wrapped tightly around mine. Her lashes fluttered with every breath; strands of hair fell loose around her face. She looked exhausted in a way that made my chest ache.
I looked right.
Seris sat with her chin resting on my shoulder, arms crossed but somehow still touching me. A bandage wrapped her side — she'd been hurt worse than she let on. Her breath was uneven, soft snatches of sleep she rarely let anyone witness.
They had stayed.
They hadn't left my side the entire time.
The bond hummed faintly — faint but present — confirming it.
I opened my mouth.
It was dry.
Rough.
Barely a sound came out.
"…hey."
Lira snapped awake instantly.
Her eyes widened.
"Arin."
Before I could blink, she was leaning over me, her hand cupping my cheek, her breath uneven with relief.
"You're awake," she whispered, voice shaking. "You— you scared us. You were unconscious for hours."
"Hours…?" My voice rasped.
Seris stirred too, eyes cracking open. She blinked groggily, then straightened the second she saw me awake.
"Finally," she muttered, voice raw. "I was about to drag you back by force."
Lira shot her a look. "He just woke up—"
"He almost collapsed into a void," Seris said sharply, but her voice trembled. "I get to complain a little."
They both leaned close — too close — and the bond warmed with so much emotion it made my throat tighten.
"Are you in pain?" Lira asked softly.
"Not really…" I said. "Just… tired."
Seris blew out a shaky breath. "Good. That's good."
Lira's fingers brushed my cheek again. "Arin… why didn't you pull back when it tried to speak to you?"
"I—couldn't."
My voice cracked quietly.
"It felt like it was… inside the bond. Inside my name."
Lira shivered. Seris clenched her jaw.
Then Lira whispered:
"Arin… when you collapsed… your mind almost dropped out of the bond entirely. It felt like losing—"
Her voice broke.
She swallowed hard.
"I don't ever want to feel that again."
Seris looked away, wiping her face with a hand that tried too hard to look casual.
"I thought we lost you, idiot."
My throat tightened.
"…I'm here," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Lira closed her eyes, relief shaking through her.
Seris leaned closer, forehead resting lightly against mine.
"Good," she murmured. "Because you're not allowed to die before we figure out what that thing is."
"Or why it knows your name," Lira added quietly.
Silence stretched between us — warm, trembling, heavy.
Then the door opened.
Councilor Dareth stood there.
Expression grave.
Voice steady.
"Arin Vale," he said, "we need to talk."
Lira stiffened.
Seris's eyes sharpened.
Dareth continued:
"What you experienced wasn't random."
He paused.
"It was recognition."
My breath caught.
"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.
Dareth stepped closer.
"The entity did not learn your name," he said.
His next words chilled the air between us:
"It remembered it."